Days of Joy, Days of Sorrow
by Stargazer Nataku
Summary: Story centers on two events, Faramir's birth and Finduilas' death. Centers on Boromir, Faramir, and Finduilas.


Author's Note:  Argh.  This is the third ravenous plot bunny that attacked me last weekend.  As most plot bunnies, it was very insistent until I wrote this out.  I hope you like.  Feedback and reviews are greatly appreciated, as I'm always looking for things to improve.  Thanks for reading!  --Nat

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**_Days of Joy, Days of Sorrow_**

**_By_**

**_Stargazer Nataku_**

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          Finduilas, wife of Denethor II, looked out the window as she lay in bed, smiling in a happy sort of weariness.  It was midafternoon, and her newest son, her second son, who was not yet two days old lay slumbering in her arms.  Her gaze fell on the infant, and she smiled as she lifted a hand to stroke the soft, nearly invisible hairs that covered his head.  It had been worth it, the hours of labor, the weariness and pain she still felt.

            There was then a soft knock on the door.  She nodded to the serving woman who sat by her bed, and she rose to open it.  From around the corner of the door, she saw her older son's head peek in, hesitant.  She beckoned to him with a smile, and he ran across the room to her bed, and climbed up onto it.  Wide five-year-old eyes met hers after he looked at the bundle she held.  "Is that the baby, Mama?" he whispered, grey eyes wide.

            "Yes, Boromir," Finduilas whispered back.  "This is your brother.  This is Faramir."

            "Faramir?" She nodded.  "He's small."

            "Indeed he is, dearest," she answered, carefully freeing one arm from the support of Faramir to pull her other son to her side.  He rested his head on her shoulder, eyes never leaving the baby.  

            "Is he always going to be that small?"

            "No, he won't," she replied, "He'll get bigger, just like you."

            "But I'll always be bigger than him, right Mama?"

            "Yes, always.  But that gives you great responsibility for him, Boromir."

            "Me?" he asked, and his eyes met hers.

            "You are his older brother, and he will look to you.  You have to help him and protect him so he can become a good boy just like you are.  You must be his friend, and love him always." She smiled.  "Can you do that for me, dearest heart?"  Boromir nodded gravely.

            "Promise?"

            "Yes, Mama," Boromir answered, his childish voice serious.

            "Do you want to hold him?"

            "Can I?"

            "Of course," she answered, and carefully took the soft bundle she held and transferred it to her son, showing him how to hold his brother so as not to hurt him or drop him.

            "I promised," Boromir said softly to the sleeping infant, "I'm gonna look after you, Faramir.  I'm your big brother, and it's my reponsbilty.  And when you get old enough, and when I get old enough 'cause Mama says I'm not yet, I'll help you learn stuff, like how to use a sword just like Papa does.  And then we can be just like all those heroes Mama reads to me about.  I can tell you about them too."

            Finduilas found herself chuckling softly, and she reached out and gently brushed some of Boromir's unruly hair from his face.  He looked up and smiled at her.  "I like him," Boromir proclaimed in an earnest whisper, "Though I can't wait until he's old enough so we can play."

            "That day will come soon enough, Boromir," I answer him, as I beckon to his nurse.  "Now, Arethwen is going to take you back to your rooms, dearest.  Mother's tired now."

            "Okay, Mama."  Boromir carefully handed Faramir back to Finduilas, who in turn gave him to the other woman in the room, who laid him in his crib.  

            "Good night, son," mother whispered, and Boromir grabbed her in a tight hug before jumping off the bed with all the energy of a young boy, and grasped the hand of his nurse.  

            "Night, Mama!"  Without complaint, he allowed himself to be lead from the room.

            Finduilas smiled as the door closed behind him, and nestled closer into the soft pillows behind her.  _Truly I am blessed, she thought, as she fell into sleep. _

  


**_Part II_**

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            Finduilas lay in bed, every painful breath her weakening body took rasping softly in her throat.  The pain was ever constant now, a constant reminder that each breath could be her last, each moment made more precious because of their limited nature.  Her husband had come and gone, with promises to return, but Finduilas now waited for others.  The healer seated by her bed was silent, watching, waiting, for her Lady's slightest wish, but the only thing Finduilas now wanted was to see her sons, for deep in her heart, she knew she would not see another dawn.

            A shadow of a smile appeared on her face as she thought of them, and pride shone in her pale face.  Boromir, as he had always promised her, was the most skilled of the boys his age in swordplay, and it seemed already that he had a sharp mind for strategy, though he was but ten years old.  Faramir, at half his brother's age, promised to be an intelligent child, already wise beyond his years, much as she imagined his father had been at his age.  For Faramir was like his father in many ways; he already could nearly see through people with a canny ability, and spoke sometimes with an air that many men never mastered.

            Finduilas sighed.  They would come soon.  How it pained her to know she would never see them grow, never see the men they someday would be.  And her dear Faramir…he depended on her so, in ways Boromir no longer needed.  How would he cope when she was gone?  How would Boromir, her son who was so strong, who would never ask for any sort of help?  How would he manage her death, when she was the one who always saw that which he needed but was too proud to ask for?  She felt tears coming to her eyes, just as there was a soft knock on the door.

            She banished them, and attempted to sit up, and nodded to her serving woman who sat by the door.  The woman rose and opened it, and Faramir ran in, his knowing grey eyes filled with sorrow.  Finduilas was suddenly reminded of the day following Faramir's birth, when she had lain in this same bed and Boromir had come running to her side.  In a gesture that mimicked his older brother's, five years previous, Faramir climbed onto the bed and she pulled him close to her.  She glanced to the door.  Boromir had followed his brother in, already cleaned and freshly dressed after his lessons, lessons that his dying mother had insisted upon him keeping up, even with the threat of her death so near.  He shut the door quietly behind him and walked over to her bed, not running, and stood beside it.  His face showed scarcely any form of emotion, as he was wont to do when deeply upset, as he had been when Faramir had fallen very ill the winter previously, but his mother understood his pain, pain he would never show.

            Finduilas whispered into Faramir's ear, and he moved to her other side, the far side, and she beckoned Boromir to sit on her other side.  Great lad though he was, he abandoned his shoes at the side of the bed and curled up by her side, in imitation of the pose his brother had taken on her other side.  "My boys," she whispered, and had to shut her eyes against the sudden urge to cry.  _No, I must be strong.  I must try to help them through the grief, even before it has come upon them._  When she opened them there was no trace of tears within.  

            "Mama?" Faramir's voice came, small and scared.  She smiled down into his serious young face. 

            "Yes, love?" 

            "Why do you have to go away?"

            "Because I'm very sick," she answered, falling back on the same reasoning she had used for Boromir when his grandfather had died four years previously, "And sometimes, if someone gets very sick, they have to go away, even if they don't want to."

            "Go away where?"

            "I'm going to be with God, who lives far away."

            "Can I come?"

            "Dearest heart, not yet," she answered, "I don't want you to have to come for a long time."

            "But aren't you going to miss me, Mama?"

            "I shall miss you both more than anything, Faramir.  I would not leave you if I could stay.  But I cannot."

            "So I'll never see you again?"  She saw the tears growing in his eyes, and one fell to make a trail down his pale cheek.

            "Not here, in Middle-Earth," she answered, "But many, many years from now, when it is your turn to come to God, then I shall be there waiting for you, and we will never be apart again."

            "I don't want you to go, Mama," he said, and the tears fell faster.  Finduilas turned to Boromir, and after brushing a hand over his hair, carefully removed her arm from around his shoulder, and put both of them around Faramir, pulling him closer to her.

            "I know," she answered, and her eyes closed, as she fought to keep from crying.  She held her younger son as he cried, and eventually wept himself to sleep on her shoulder.  Only when he had fallen to sleep, she turned to Boromir, and once again pulled him close.

            They were silent as she stroked his hair, still unruly as it had been years before.  "Boromir, do you remember what I told you when your brother was born?"

            "Yes," he answered.

            "He will need you now more than ever," she said, "He is so young, and he does not understand.  Can I depend on you to take care of him?"

            "Always," Boromir answered, and he turned more to her and buried his head in her shoulder much as Faramir had done.  She smiled sadly.  He was already much a man, yet still a boy.  "I don't want you to go either, Mother," he whispered into his shoulder.

            "I know," she whispered back, "I do not wish to go."

            "I know," her son answered.

            There was a knock on the door, and a nod from Finduilas had the same women opening it.  In came Denethor with the Warden of the Houses of Healing by his side, the most skilled healer in all of Gondor.  She smiled at her husband, touched by his love for her, that he would still fight to keep her beside him, though it was beyond all hope.  "Finduilas," Denethor said, and the grief was in his face as well.

            At his father's voice, Boromir pulled away from her and stepped down off the bed, keeping his back turned so he could wipe away his tears.  Finduilas sighed.  He was so eager to impress his father, to prove he would be a good heir and a good steward when the time came.  "Husband," she said, "Warden."  She gently shook Faramir awake, and he slowly awoke and looked up at her with tear-filled eyes.  "Darling, you have to go now," she said, "The doctor is here, and I must see him."  

            "Okay, Mama," he said, and he gave her a hug, a gentle one, as if he knew that any harder would pain her.  He clung to her as she smiled at him as best she could, and kissed his forehead.  "Goodbye, Faramir," she whispered to him, "I love you, always."  He nodded, tears still in his eyes, and pulled away.  

            "I love you too, Mama, he said, as he pulled away.  

            "Boromir," she called out gently, and reached out for him.  He came back and took her outstretched hand, climbing back onto the side of the bed and embracing her as gently as his brother had done.  When he pulled away after a long moment, she gave him another smile, and spoke softly.  "I have faith in you, my son," she said, "To care for your brother, for I know he will need you."

            "Always, Mother," he said, "I promised."          

            "Good," she answered, "You put my heart at rest, dearest son.  I know it will be hard for you, just as it is for him, but you are strong enough to carry on and to help your brother do the same."  He nodded.  "Farewell, Boromir.  I love you, always."  She repeated the same words she had given his brother, and he nodded and though he did not say the words, she did not need them, for she knew her love was returned.

            She watched as he stepped back and turned to walk over to his brother.  Reaching out, he took Faramir's hand, and together they walked out of the room.  

            Finduilas pressed her eyes closed, and tried to console herself with the promise she had extracted from her son, though it was cold comfort to her grief.


End file.
